He crossed over to an oak bureau which stood in the corner by the fireplace, and taking a paper from a pigeon-hole slowly unfolded it and spread it on the table before the delighted Mr.Chalk.

Miss Drewitt and Edward Tredgold advanced to the table and eyed it curiously.
The map, which was drawn in lead-pencil, was on a piece of ruled paper, yellow with age and cracked in the folds.

The island was in shape a rough oval, the coast-line being broken by small bays and headlands.

Mr.
Chalk eyed it with all the fervour usually bestowed on a holy relic, and, breathlessly reading off such terms as "Cape Silvio," "Bowers Bay," and "Mount Lonesome," gazed with breathless interest at the discoverer.
"And is that the grave ?" he inquired, in a trembling voice, pointing to a mark in the north-east corner.
The captain removed it with his finger-nail.

"No," he said, briefly.
"For full details see the other side." For one moment Mr.Chalk hoped; then his face fell as Captain Bowers, displaying for a fraction of a second the writing on the other side, took up the map and, replacing it in the bureau, turned the key in the lock and with a low laugh resumed his seat.